# 



L3P3 



CopvRiGHT 1883, by Mamie Luke. 



THE 






P 




iiilii @f iitlim'^ 



jV JUay Dream. 



-BY- 



— =6= ^^ls/Lj^ls/LX:Ei LTJKIE.^^ -^^ 

STAND upon the Bridge of Size that spans the broad East river, 
Whose dancing waters sparkle bright as hot the sunbeams quiver- 
(I'm in the shade of Gotham's tower) ! 
I see proud Gotham stretching far across the Harlem waters, 
Where coming millions may secure their homes in spacious quarters — 

(May grasping landlords lose their power) ! 
There, on Long Island, to the east, afar is Brooklyn reaching, 
The city for its churches famed, and more so for its preaching — 

(There, Beecher and the Talmage glitter) ! 
In name two cities — one in fact, and by this Bridge united — 
Both great, and greater much to be, unless untimely blighted — 
The thought of their decay is bitter) ! 




A dream I have — not all a dream — of future growth and splendor 
For Gotham, locomotive fast, and Brooklyn, too, her tender — 

(Or mother, let me say, and daughter) ! 
For miles and miles along the Sound— on either side I scan it — 
Are serried lines and broad areas of solid brick and granite — 

(How much it must have cost for mortar) ! 
Far up along the Hudson's tide, from Sound to river spanning. 
The giant Gotham proudly moves on Albany and Manning — 

(Lives there, I think, a "boss" named thusly) ! 
Her citizens are millions six, and more and more are coming. 
And chief among the wealthy ones are those engaged in plumbing — 

(Quite sure am I of stating justl}^ ! 
But there are many solid ones — and some are arrant jokers — 
Those ''bloated " most with lucre are her horny-handed brokers — 

(Oh, for a " corner " cool and bracing) ! 
And Brooklyn, with its many souls — three million and three-quarters — 
Is moving on with strident step 'twixt Sound and river waters — 

(A steamer yacht I'd like for racing) ! 
And ships sail in and ships sail out, by scores, aye, hundreds daily, 
A thousand ride within the bay, all decked with bunting gaily — 

(Our flag is scarce, but England's isn't) ! 
With masts the river shores are fringed — two forests loom, and proudly- 
Beneath the weight of merchandise the piers are groaning loudly — 

(Hyperbole, you think, but 'tisn't) ! 



The wheels of commerce whirl and roar — prosperity is driving-- 
The merchants all are coining wealth, and every one is thriving — 

(Unknown the fair, but false, trade dollar)! 
But ah ! a change comes o'er my dream comes darkly o'er its spirit — 
All somber looks the prospect now, no gleam of light to cheer it — 

(Shall fate the cities thusly collar) ? 
In sack-cloth lie the cities both, if not indeed in ashes, 
All, all is gloom, and o'er the scene no ray of sunlight flashes — 

(E'en Edison his light has hidden) ! 
An exodus is going on, the multitudes are flying, 
Rank grass is growing in the streets, and trade is dead or dying — 

(Death on the pale horse here has ridden) ! 
The masted forests blighted are, the ships and piers have rotted, 
And with abandoned hulks the bay, for miles and miles, is dotted — 

(My dream is o'er ; New York take warning) ! 
What caused this woeful change to come — what blighted these proud cities ? 
Well may you ask, and sad exclaim, "A thousand, thousand pities—" 

(And Brooklyn, too ; no time for yawning) ! 
The change was brought about by this : The people, wealthward jumping. 
Their splendid harbor ruined, quite, b)^ offal therein dumping — 

(Oh, shame, and double-headed pity) ! 
Too long they fostered Apathy, a fell and deadly viper. 
Danced while they shoaled their noble Bay, are paying Jtow the piper ! 

(Thus passed the glory of our City) I 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

PHI 

015 762 664 4 



POETICAL ADVERTISEMENTS 

AND OTHER WRITING, 
Address MAMIE LUKE, 

Station W, Brooklyn, N. Y. 



(S" 



3V 3 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



015 762 664 4 



1 

^1 



